With the exception of getting caught in showers that arrived ahead of schedule a few Mondays ago, I’m usually the model of trepidation and will substitute to a more conventional means of transport if the word on the weathermap is water’s to fall. Of course with such avoidance tactics, most of those times I’m left behind the wheel of my truck stuck in traffic and grumbling because the clouds never open up either as expected or at all.

Thus it was when the alarms started sounding yesterday that Los Angeles could be in for a series of storms that could combine to be the heaviest to hit town in many years beginning as early as today and going through Sunday, I did two things:

1) I immediately pffft’d the prognosticatings because when the weatherfolk start getting all excited that some storm’s a sure thing or gonna be huge, it usually finds a way not to be all that.

2) Decided to drive to work just in case they nail it this time.

But when I woke up this morning, I took a good look at the brightening sky while moving the trashcans to the curb and didn’t see roiling clouds. Then I took a deep exploratory sniff of the air and I didn’t smell rain. And bonus: my right knee wasn’t achy. I hemmed and hawed and pro’d and con’d and while the wise part of me was saying “just take the truck,” the gambler inside reminded me of how aggravated I was last time I played it safe and such caution was all for naught.

So I’m rolling the dice and riding in. Here’s hoping I beat the odds.